The first orthodontist told me I was ugly. She didn’t use those exact words. But after examining my teeth and explaining how a combination of Invisalign and traditional metal braces would correct the crowding in my mouth, what she said, with the folksy grace of telling me that I could supersize my fries for only 99 cents, was that if I were considering more facial reconstruction, “to create a more traditional jawline,” that she could recommend a good doctor.

I asked her if she was upselling me plastic surgery and she backed away from the topic, apologizing for any misunderstanding.

I chose another orthodontist. But first I put if off for two more years, entertaining the possibility that I could land in a new job or career with health benefits that would subsidize the $7,000 expense. That is as likely as my teeth fixing themselves. Having begun the two-year process now, the braces should be off by Christmas 2015 — and before I turn 40 I may be able to eat corn in mixed company.

For the first and probably last time in my life, procrastination paid off. The second doctor informed me that in the last two years the technology has improved enough that I could get away with Invisalign top and bottom. Shut up and take my money, I told him.

Before my first appointment, I cooked one last meal for the condemned, a medium-rare six-ounce hamburger between two grilled cheese sandwiches (or “cowlorie” as it’s called at burger shop Holy Chuck).

At the orthodontist’s, they bond clips, which look like miniature bookshelves, to my teeth. Barely perceptible to the eye, they help the aligners snap into place.

The thing that orthodontists won’t tell you before you get braces is that you cannot eat solid food for a couple weeks. Unless you enjoy physical pain.

For my first meal, the soup part goes down fine. But the strips of beef get caught on the clips, lashed together with the rice noodles. Trying to chew my way out, the jagged clip edges scrape against the inside of my mouth and I bite my tongue. In pain but still hungry, I consume six spoonfuls of creamy peanut butter. But man cannot exist on peanut butter, oatmeal and congee alone. Though please send me your grandmother’s congee recipe.

For the first week, every bite of food presents the same challenge The Three Stooges had when trying to walk through a door at the same time, and I learn what TTC boss Andy Byford, an adult bracefellow, meant when he requested soft foods for dinner.

I take them out to eat, drink and brush my teeth. It’s no more intrusive than opening a can of soda on which the manufacturers have placed the can’s tab at the back of your mouth, near your throat. No more afternoon snacking. No more flask of whisky at the movies.

It’s changed the way I cook as well. When you’re cooking, you have to taste as you add each ingredient. So why not just take them out while you’re in the kitchen? Well, as you’re reminded every time you remove them, by a label inside the storage case, “optimal wear: 22 hours/day”. So when you do decide to eat, the clock is ticking. When dining out, I keep them on until the first drink arrives. After clinking glasses with friends and taking a fake sip, I slip off to the washroom to remove the aligners. Every minute that these things aren’t in your mouth, is a potential week that your orthodontist adds on to your sentence. The average dinner at my house is about four hours. So far I’ve been sneaking to the bathroom and slipping them on and off between courses. And by courses, I mean my guests eating grownup food while I sip soup.

While the whole reason I’m eating pureed food is that I don’t want to chew, a bowl of soup needs a garnish, just as a Kenny Loggins song needs a Michael McDonald chorus. The strategy for garnishing soup is to balance not just the flavour (cream to cut through spice or acidity, fresh herbs to brighten an earthy mushroom chowder), but the texture as well, to provide some chew in a potentially repetitive bowl.

And so I have fallen hard for crema and mango pickle, two seemingly disparate ingredients. Mexican sour cream is as fatty and satisfying as any liquid can be before it becomes a solid. And Indian mango pickle (I use Nirav brand) provides all the heat and tartness you could want in any dish, minus the chewing.

I’m just now moving past the baby food stage. I can eat apples again, albeit sliced or, as I’ve done since childhood, tearing with my bicuspids (sideteeth) like a dog, as my incisors are too uneven to bite hard foods without pain. I look forward to a future when children do not cry in terror at my visage, when villagers do not chase me with torches and pitchforks, when I can chomp into an apple like they do it in the movies, with my front teeth, something I’ve never done.

In the meantime, here are three recipes for baby-food soups.

RECIPES

You could garnish the pumpkin bacon soup with pumpkin seeds or the cauliflower soup with crushed almonds. But I’m going to maintain these recipes the way I ate them, garnished with with crema*, mango pickle** and cilantro***.

*Available in Latin grocers such as Perola’s, 247 Augusta Ave.

**Available in Indian grocers. I get it at House of Spice, 190 Augusta Ave.

***Ok, c’mon. You know where to get cilantro.

Cauliflower Almond Soup

For bonus points, toast and grind cumin and coriander. The spinach is optional. I threw it in at the last minute because it was in my fridge. I still couldn’t eat solid food and figured it was the best way to get my vitamins. Plus the colour is great.

2 tbsp (30 mL) unsalted butter

1 clove garlic, peeled

1/4 white onion, peeled and roughly chopped

1 tsp (5 mL) cumin, toasted and ground

1 tsp (5 mL) coriander, toasted and ground

1 tsp (5 mL) turmeric

1/2 head cauliflower

1 cups (250 mL) almonds, toasted

4 cups (1 L) water

1 bunch spinach, rinsed

1 tbsp (15 mL) limejuice

salt to taste

In a large pan on high heat, bring butter to a boil. Immediately reduce heat to low and simmer, whisking regularly, until butter browns, about 15 minutes. Use brown butter to sauté garlic and onion until soft, about five minutes. Add cumin, coriander and turmeric. Let the spices simmer for one minute and add cauliflower. Brown for four minutes before adding almonds and water. Simmer until soft enough to puree, about 15 to 20 minutes.

Puree in blender. Finish with spinach and limejuice. Season to taste.

Spicy Roast Pepper Soup

I did this the first time with Thai tom yum paste*, then with Chinese Pixian paste*, then with Mexican chipotles in adobo sauce. It all works. Just remember, before the final seasoning, that all these chilies pastes have a lot of salt. A great finish is to turn it into sauce for huevos cocidos y salsa brava.

*Available in Asian groceries, such as Oriental Harvest at 310 Spadina Ave.

6 red bell peppers

2 tsp (10 mL) vegetable oil

1 garlic

1/2 red onion

1 tbsp ginger

1 tbsp chili paste (see above note)

4 roma tomatoes, quartered

3 cups (750 mL) water

1 tbsp (15 mL) limejuice

salt to taste

Preheat oven to 400F/200C. In an oven-proof pan, rub peppers with half of oil and a sprinkle of salt. Roast peppers until charred, turning occasionally, about 45 minutes. Transfer to lidded container until cool enough to handle, but still warm. Slide off charred skin. Scrape out seeds.

In a large pot, use remaining oil on medium heat to sauté garlic, onion and ginger until soft, about seven minutes. Add chili and cook one more minute. Add tomatoes, water and limejuice. Simmer for 10 minutes and puree in blender. Season to taste.

Makes about 6 servings.

Pumpkin Bacon Soup

This is adapted from a recipe in Jennifer McLagen’s book Fat: an appreciation of a misunderstood ingredient. I made it to use up my jar of pumpkin seeds that I could no longer chew. I used acorn squash because that’s what was available. Kabocha, buttercup or hubbard would be great. Or just yams.

1 pumpkin/squash (acorn), peeled an

1/2 pound (225 g) bacon

1 white onion, peeled and roughly chopped

1 tbsp (15 mL) rum

1 tbsp (15 mL) molasses

4 cups (1 L) water

1/2 cup (125 mL) pumpkin seeds, toasted

Peel pumpkin. Scoop out seeds (you can rinse and roast them, but it’s way easier to buy pumpkin seeds). Cut into smallish chunks.

In a large pan, sweat bacon on low heat until soft, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add onion and cook until soft, about 10 minutes. Deglaze with rum, molasses and water. Bring to a light boil and add pumpkin and pumpkin seeds. Simmer until soft, about 20 minutes. Puree in blender.

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